Prose that may be too bland or too blue;
Random stories that may or may not be true;
All penned by Alice in her times of loneliness;
They shall aid the mind and heart of the restless.
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This is the seventh day. I have no idea it needs to be this long.
I lay comfortably, hands clasped in my stomach, breath steady. The room is magnificent, full of lights, flowers, and decorative white linen. And what’s that smell? Is that coffee? I badly want to get one, but my muscles feel too tired to move. Bees are buzzing—nay, it’s the mourners’ sibilant voices, whispering to each other. I catch a word or two. The man to my left is saying, “. . . gonna miss her.” The old lady next to him adds, “. . . glad she went peacefully.”
My mother is talking on the other side of the room, her voice shaking from too much tears. She’s saying what a good daughter I’ve been. How nice. She’s reciting all my achievements, from winning the Science Fair when I was in middle school to having multiple dance trophies in high school. Next are my younger brothers to give their dirges. George, there he is. And Frank. And Danny. Today is a Tuesday. Did they skip school? Then, the last to stand is my father; his is the longest eulogy I have ever heard. Talk about being dramatic.
Come on, why so glum? It’s just death. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not as if they will halt their entire lives once I’m buried deep beneath the earth. The sun and moon will keep rising, all these crying faces will laugh again, and the world will move on as if nothing had happened. That’s how life works. You live, you die, and then everyone forgets about you. Except, of course, if you did a great deal of good or evil, people would remember you. But if you’re part of the eighty percent of normal, everyday individuals like me, chances are, in five decades, no one will recall that you once graced the world with your presence.
Oh, if only I could move, I’d burst from this casket and tell everyone to stop. Life is too fleeting to mourn for the dead. My family and all these people have nothing to worry about. I had my time, and it was a wondrous, glorious time.
